Rashel's Baby
by JezTheHuntress
Summary: What happens when two of our favorite Night World couples get stuck with a baby for half an hour.


The doorbell rang, and Rashel just rolled her eyes and tried to sink lower down on the sofa. Her foster mother was quickly in the parlor, smiling and ushering another couple inside. She hated it when her mother had these dinner parties; that's why she'd asked if she could invite her boyfriend over tonight to keep her company.

Rashel's foster parents didn't particularly care for Quinn – he wore dark clothing, he didn't say much, and he always seemed a little off. But ever since Rashel had brought him home, her history grades had appeared to improve, so they let it slide.

She gripped his arm and snuggled into his side, her eyes glued on the television, determined not to make eye contact with anyone. People always took eye contact as a sign to talk to her, when she was really fine doing her own thing.

It was a commercial break, though, and Rashel finally darted a glance over to the couple who had entered, peering around Quinn's shoulder. They were young, she thought, and pretty, and probably only recently married. They both had dark skin and genuine smiles, but that wasn't what caught Rashel's attention. What she noticed was the little girl in their arms, the one with huge, dark eyes that peered earnestly around. She was probably one, maybe two years old.

Rashel caught Quinn's eye and nodded toward the girl. As her foster mother led the three guests into the kitchen, Quinn turned around and grinned, nudging her. "She's a cutie. I didn't know you hated kids."

Rashel made an offended noise, glaring at him evilly. "I do not _hate_ kids. Nobody _hates_ kids. I just… don't… know what to do with them." She shrugged with one shoulder. "And anyway, since when did you become Mr. Dad?"

"I'm just messing with you, Kitten." He grinned and nudged her again.

Rashel elbowed him in the ribs, but not hard enough to hurt him. "Yeah, well, don't. Don't make fun of me, but I'm a little intimidated by them. I told you, I don't really know what to do with them."

This time Quinn laughed, and Rashel nearly growled. "You?" he said. "Rashel the Cat? The big bad vampire hunter? You're afraid of kids?"

"I didn't say that," she insisted.

"You didn't have to."

She rolled her eyes again and sighed, turning back to the television set. "I'm not scared of kids," she muttered. "I'm not scared of anything."

It was a few hours into the night, and the third episode of whatever crappy TV show reruns she and Quinn had been watching – something annoying from the 80s that Quinn liked when it first came on – had just finished when her hand flew to her stomach.

"Whoa," she said. "Did you hear that?"

He raised an eyebrow. "That was pretty impressive. Are you hungry?"

"Are you kidding? My stomach wouldn't growl like that if I wasn't. I'll be right back; I think Betsy has some snacks in the kitchen."

Betsy was the name of her current foster mother.

Quinn stood up when she did. "I'll tag along. Betsy always makes those amazing deviled eggs."

"I hate deviled eggs."

Rashel made her way to the kitchen, Quinn tagging along at her heels, and browsed over the assortment of food. She was about to grab a plate when a friend of her mother's came up to her. Rashel tried to remember her name – something along the lines of Julie, she thought. Julie was holding the little girl that Rashel had seen earlier that night, even though she wasn't the girl's mother.

"Hey, Rachel."

"Rashel."

"Rashel. Sorry." Julie tucked a strand of her wavy brown hair behind her ear. "Do you think you could hold her for a minute? I'll be right back."

What? Hold who? Unfortunately, Rashel was too busy being confused to fend Julie off when she dumped the little girl in her arms onto Rashel. Rashel quickly grabbed the child before realizing the problem.

"Um, how do I…" How do I hold her? she thought.

Quinn moved to help her as Julie pushed past the two of them to get to the other room. "Here," he said, gently helping her. "Put your arm under her like this, and wrap this arm… there you go." He leaned back, smiling. "You got it now."

"Um. I don't feel so comfortable. What if I drop her?"

"Just use _zanshin_, Rashel."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, ha, ha, John. Thanks for the helpful advice." She paused, looking down thoughtfully at the little girl in her arms. "She's kind of cute, I guess. If you like that kind of thing."

The little girl's eyes were very large and very dark. She was pretty. If she ever had children, which she knew she couldn't, even if she did want them, which she didn't… she would want hers to look like this one. Even though Rashel was white and the little girl was African-American.

"What's your name, little one?" Quinn said, tilting his head at her playfully. She just blinked at him.

Just then, Rashel – who _had_ been using _zanshin_, just in case – heard the front door click open. Then Betsy's voice. "Thanks for coming, Julie, it was so nice seeing you."

What? Julie was leaving? No. No, no, no.

Rashel, wide-eyed, looked at the little girl in her arms, who only blinked up at her innocently.

Rashel rushed to the door as quickly as she dared, taking care to keep the little girl in her arms secure, but by that point it was too late. Betsy had shut the door, and Rashel could see through the window that Julie's car was pulling out of the driveway.

Rashel turned around to face Quinn, panicked. "She said she'd be right back!"

Quinn shrugged. "I guess she lied."

Rashel mustered up her most evil glare and shot it at Quinn. Then she pushed past him, shielding the baby to make sure she didn't bump into him, and swore.

"Don't swear in front of the baby, Rashel. What if she repeats what she hears?"

"Maybe she'll grow up into a badass. Like me." Rashel smiled minutely before resuming her scowl once more. She found the kitchen where she'd seen the kid's dad earlier. What had his name been?

Marmaduke, she remembered. Marmaduke Halls.

"Mr. Halls," Rashel said as she found him. "Mr. Halls, your kid."

Marmaduke turned and peered at her quizzically. "Yes?"

"Julie was holding her," Rashel explained. "And then she handed her to me. Then Julie went home. Would you like to take her?" Except instead of an offer, Rashel somehow managed to make it sound more like a plea.

Marmaduke laughed. "You take her. It looks like you're taking fine care of her."

Rashel's eyes widened. She spluttered. "But – I – listen, I'm the last person you'd want to –"

But he'd already stopped paying attention and had turned back to whoever he'd been talking to before she'd interrupted. Rashel stared.

Quinn, smiling, gently took her arm and led her back to the couch where the two of them had been watching reruns earlier. As soon as they were there, Rashel set the girl down on the floor.

"Jesus, Rashel, she's not toxic."

"What if I drop her?"

"You won't."

They watched as she stood up and wandered over to the chest full of toys that belonged to Rashel's foster brother, Augustus. She picked up a stuffed goldfish and brought it over to Rashel.

"Fish," she said.

"Yep." Rashel nodded.

"Fish," she repeated, then carefully set it in Rashel's lap and went back over to the toy chest.

Rashel squinted at it as if it were a foreign object. Quinn saw her staring and laughed. Before she could glare at him again, he said thoughtfully, "What do you think her name is?"

Rashel shrugged. "I have no idea. Marmaduke hasn't ever brought her over here before."

She wandered over to them again. Quinn smiled and asked her, "What's your name, sweetie?"

She stared at the two of them. Then she set a little cardboard picture book on Rashel's lap, nodded once, and climbed onto the couch between the two of them. "Story."

Quinn grinned. "I don't think she knows it."

"She really is kind of cute-looking." Rashel tilted her head. "If you had a daughter, what would you name her?"

"Gliona, probably," he said.

Rashel raised her eyebrows.

"What?"

Rashel continued giving him the look. He sighed. "All right, maybe it's not the best name to give a little girl. Maybe Helen. Helen Gliona Quinn."

Rashel smiled at the kid. "Hi, Helen. I'm Rashel. This is John."

"Quinn," he corrected.

"Fine, this is Quinn."

"Kin," repeated the kid, who had now been named Helen by Rashel.

"Almost." Rashel shrugged. "Close enough."

"Story?"

"I think she wants you to read to her, Kitten." Quinn nudged her.

Rashel opened the book. "Is this what you want? You want me to read to you? Learn English, why don't you."

But she read the story. Halfway through it, Helen got up and wandered over to the Augustus's chest again. Rashel put the book down and sighed, exasperated. "If she wanted me to read to her then why did she get up and leave halfway through?"

Quinn looked like he was trying not to laugh. This made Rashel want to strangle him. "She's two, Rashel," he told her. "Two-year olds aren't exactly known for their attention span."

Helen returned to them bearing a plastic figurine. "Dad," she said. She turned and tried to hand it to Quinn. "Like you."

Quinn blinked and his eyebrows went up. "No, no, no," he told her, waving his hands. "I'm not a dad."

Her eyebrows furrowed and she tried to shove the figurine at him. "Dad. Dad. For you."

Quinn backed up, standing on the couch. Rashel burst into a fit of laughter. "Looks like I'm not the only one afraid of children."

"Ha!" He pointed at her. "You admitted it! You just said it! You're afraid of children!"

"No, you're afraid of children," she insisted. Rashel picked Helen up and set her on the couch next to Quinn. "Helen, attack!"

Helen wobbled forward and hugged Quinn by his knees. Rashel laughed again. Her eyes met Quinn's, and they smiled at each other. She hadn't expected to have fun like this tonight.

Just then, Rashel saw Helen's mother come in through the door. Her face lit up when she saw the little girl. "Oh, Leah, there you are." Her mother scooped her up off the couch. "Thanks for watching her."

And then she left, quickly as she came.

Quinn sat down again. "Huh."

And that was right. Huh. She was just gone.

Rashel leaned back into Quinn. "I guess kids aren't so bad," she said. "I mean, if you like that kind of thing."

"She was sweet."

"Yeah, it was funny, wasn't it?" Rashel turned to look at him. "I mean, I guess I was led to believe that kids are all just nose picking brats. But Helen – I mean, Leah – was…"

"Nice?"

"Yeah."

There was a long pause, and Rashel laid herself long-ways across the couch, resting her head on Quinn's lap. "Why Helen?" she finally said.

"Hm?"

"Why Helen?" Rashel repeated. "Why'd you pick that name?"

"Oh, she was such a pretty little girl, you know. And Helen, I mean, Helen of Troy was so beautiful hers was known as the face that launched a thousand ships."

"If you're going to name a girl something," Rashel said decidedly, "you shouldn't just name her after someone beautiful. I like the name Gloria."

"Why's that?"

"It was my mother's name."

Again, there was a very long pause. Then, Rashel spoke. "Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, having children someday. Far off in the future. Far, far off."

"We're not going to be able to have kids, Rashel." He seemed sad when he said it. "Vampires can't have kids."

"We can adopt. I don't care about genetics. Some of the nicest parents are foster parents, you know."

That seemed to cheer him up. Rashel knew this was the case when he said roguishly, "You know, most people are married before they have children."

Rashel looked up to see him grinning slyly at her. She returned the smile. "Well, I guess we have to get married someday. We're soulmates, after all. Destined to be together and all that." She gave him a stern look. "But not for a long time. Not for a very, very long time."

"Agreed," he told her, and bent down to give her a kiss on the lips.

Someday, Rashel knew, she'd have her very own baby – with Quinn. They might not be the best parents at the start, but they'd learn. And Rashel could tell that they would make a great family.


End file.
